


To Live

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Child Death, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Premature Infant, post 1X12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Malaya watched tiny Phillip in the NICU, Christa comes to her side and gives her some hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Live

**Author's Note:**

> Correct me if I am wrong about anything related to preemies and white/male babies fatalities.

                                                                          _To Live_

 

            Malaya continued to watch Phillip through the glass-screen doors as she watched the preemie sleep. The first year resident looked at the tiny baby, holding her hand in front of the glass, seeing the incubator that he was in. _Phillip Ellion Niven_. Carla had seen her son. She had held him before she died.

                And yet…

                Why did Malaya feel so much emptiness as she starred at the incubator holding the last thing she had of her former girlfriend? _“It’s more than good.”_ Mama’s words echoed in her ears, but they appeared to hold less and less meaning as she continued to stand watching baby Phillip. It had been a couple of weeks since Carla had died and Phillip had been born. Even though she was often exhausted and would like no more than to go home and sleep, the first-year resident always went upstairs to the NICU and saw as Phillip and other sickly babies were cared for by gentle nurses and caring doctors. _Please…_ Malaya pleaded. _Please, whoever is still there, let this little baby live._ Even though babies were viable at twenty-three weeks, it was still a challenge for a thirty-week baby to live. Particularly Caucasian males. Which Phillip was.

                “Hey.”

                Malaya turned to find Christa walking towards her, sympathy on the older resident’s face as she walked towards the glass screen. For a moment, the blond didn’t say anything.

                “I’m sorry about Carla.” Malaya bit her lip, closing her eyes as she remembered vividly holding Carla’s hand as she died. Her dark eyes found Christa’s, and was shocked to find understanding and empathy in the older resident’s face. The dark-haired resident had wondered why this older woman had decided to go to medical school to become a doctor when she was at least ten years older than them. _All that time studying and memorizing, staying up until four in the morning stressing about exams gets harder as you’re older._ Malaya had seen Christa talk with Dr. Rorish during the first few weeks of their residency, when they both had thought they were alone. The expressions of shared grief and the small words that they shared allowed Malaya to only know that the blond resident and Dr. Rorish had shared something in common – a tragedy.

                “I can’t imagine waking up and going through this,” Christa stated softly as she and Malaya watched the movements in the NICU. “When…my son was born, I was just simply happy to have him in my arms and seeing him for the first time.” Malaya looked at her in shock, her eyes widening at the information she was hearing. The older resident paused and her blue eyes stared at the incubator where Phillip was in. “This is another kind of bravery that I just can’t contemplate.” There was moisture in her eyes.

                “You had a son?” Malaya asked, shock still echoing in her voice as Christa nodded. Inwardly, the younger resident sobered, realizing that there was only one reason for a woman like Christa to enter a medical field. As if reading her thoughts, the blond resident started to speak haltingly, her voice slightly cracking as she spoke of the memories that must have caused so much pain.

                “The only time I felt so hopeless was when my son was diagnosed with cancer. He was given…four years to live.” Christa sighed and looked toward the younger resident. “He was only alive for two.” Malaya’s heart pulsated with empathy, her eyes locking onto the incubator that held a thirty week preemie. “My only comfort then was having holding him as he died, but…it was hard. It was so hard. I know what you are feeling, Malaya.” Their eyes connected then, and the younger resident swallowed as Christa continued, her eyes brimming with sadness and strength. “I’m sorry that you have to be another person who lost someone.”

                “He…might not even live,” the dark-haired first year whispered. Hot and painful tears appeared in her eyes, and Malaya inwardly cursed as they pelted down her cheeks. “He could have cerebral palsy and a multitude of problems. Phillip could even get cancer later in life, like your son.” A scream of fear roared in her chest. “Phillip doesn’t have his mother. He only has me, and what…can I ever hope to do? There’s a reason why people don’t have kids when in med school or starting residency, and…I don’t know what to do.” Malaya swallowed the heavy feeling of emptiness as she turned toward the other resident. Christa was listening to her. She wasn’t attempting to make her understand, and tell her words that had no meaning anymore. She only listened, and for that, Malaya thanked her.

                “I just…miss Carla.” That was the naked truth. When it had become apparent that Carla was in her life again and not taking any treatment, Malaya’s girlfriend Eva had tolerated the resident’s worry and fears for a brief moment of time. When Malaya started obsessively researching about cancer treatments for pregnant woman and their alone time became zero, Eva and Malaya had more fights than the first year resident wanted to remember. Then, one day, Malaya had found the apartment she had shared with Eva empty. The shock and anger the young adult had expected didn’t come. Instead, she lowered herself to the ground and started to cry. Malaya found it hard to sleep, waking up to nightmares of Carla dying and the baby inside her dying – Malaya always alone and sobbing over their bodies. It had taken a long time for the first year resident to come to term with Carla’s death – and her way of dying. It hurt though…to find that lives were being lived without a precious life that Malaya had thought at one time that she would die without. She missed Carla.

                “She was my world,” Malaya whispered as tears continued to run down her face. “She was my world, and now she’s gone.”

                Christa slowly nodded her head, a renewed grief echoing in her eyes as she stared into the mourning eyes of her fellow resident.

                “I know. It hurts, and I can’t tell you how long it will continue.” Christa’s voice became softer as she continued to speak. “You need to continue to live, Malaya. Because…wouldn’t you have to see the world with precious boy that you have?”

                Malaya shakily nodded, finding her voice lost as a sob almost choked her. She watched as Christa almost pressed her hand against the glass, as if wanting to reach for the tiny baby inside and to hold him.

                For all three women who had lost something as they lived and died in this world.


End file.
